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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27824386">i want to love you but i don't know how</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/hungryforramen/pseuds/hungryforramen'>hungryforramen</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Killing Eve (TV 2018)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, F/F, One Shot, Post-Canon, Season 3 Spoilers</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 18:48:38</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,205</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27824386</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/hungryforramen/pseuds/hungryforramen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Eve realised that Oksana was waiting for an answer despite her impatience permeating the air around them. Either of them could easily close the space between, and though Eve wanted to kiss her, she couldn’t bring herself to do it.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Eve Polastri/Villanelle | Oksana Astankova</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>21</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>i want to love you but i don't know how</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Took me only 6 months to write this. :)</p><p>Title from Sleeping At Last's Neptune.</p><p>Update: I edited a sentence or two because 3am me is<i>cringier<i> than 4pm me.</i></i></p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Carolyn’s words from the day before yesterday played in Eve’s mind when she checked into the first motel that fits the description that afternoon: ‘Whatever you do, Eve, be on a low profile.’ Villanelle had sworn not to step into anything less than a 5-star hotel with a bottle of Moet waiting for her in an ice bucket, but at least Eve put comfort first before anything else.</p><p>Eve exited the taxi in a bustling city in Eastern Europe; she wouldn’t mind staying somewhere nicer than this… well, this motel was decent, actually. Her presence in this city was but sight-seeing or doing anything touristy. In fact, if things went south, she could never come back here and that would be a bummer.</p><p>Villanelle, on the other hand, didn’t appreciate the thought, even if there was a touch of comfort. The assassin arrived wearing expensive light blue bell-bottom slacks and a white lace blouse that belonged on a mannequin in a petite Parisian boutique. Her priceless boots were sinking into the muddy puddle as she gaped at the unsightly motel Eve picked out for them for the night, looking terribly crossed.</p><p>‘You said <em>comfort</em>,’ Villanelle said through gritted teeth as disgust rose in her. ‘I <em>trusted</em> you.’</p><p>Eve turned. ‘Low profile, remember? It’s the best one here; the one that way is a lot worse. Now, come on.’ She marched excitedly towards the off-white, chipped doors. The bells rocked slightly, letting out a high chime in the middle of September evening. Eve called for Villanelle once she was indoors, simply calling her <em>V</em> when they’re in public.</p><p>Villanelle was clearly revolted by the place. They had different definitions of comfort. Eve thought this was alright, but clearly, for Villanelle, it wasn’t. Mustering the courage to take a step forward, Villanelle angrily stomped her way inside the shabby lobby, leaving traces of her expensive boots behind her. They walked side by side to the lift, and when the creaky metal door opened, Villanelle once again refused to move; not out of fear of the steel wires snapping as it carries them to the 4<sup>th</sup> floor, but of how cramped and rusty it looked. Villanelle suppressed a shiver.</p><p>Eve was waiting for Villanelle, holding the door for the latter who looked utterly sickened by the lift. ‘Don’t be silly, Villanelle.’</p><p>Eve has her motherly ways of speaking to her; soft, yet stern. It took a while to learn not to be afraid of Villanelle, and now it’s almost a superpower. That wasn’t true—her heart pounded slightly, though Eve suppressed her fear with a smile. She had always feared for her life when she was within Villanelle’s vicinity, but if she wanted to survive, she couldn’t be intimidated by the assassin.</p><p>Giving in, Villanelle tip-toed carefully into the lift, cowering her body, trying her best not to be brushed by the walls enclosing her, not even the slightest. And when it did brush on her blouse, she dusted the invisible dust and germs with her hands profusely before wiping it off on her slacks. She let out a frustrated groan, while Eve looked at her. It was an endearing sight: like a child who had been forced to behave herself.</p><p>When Villanelle noticed Eve’s gaze, she said defensively, ‘What?’</p><p>Eve smiled, shaking her head at the incredulous sight. ‘Nothing,’ she said before turning away.</p><p>‘Doesn’t look like nothing,’ the latter chided.</p><p>Before she could retort any further, the lift gave what was the most pathetic ding she had heard in her life. Eve disembarked first as soon as the doors parted, leaving Villanelle behind. Villanelle could see the distance between them getting vast with every step, and not wanting to touch the panel, she quickly followed suit.</p><p>Eve began scouring her back for the room key once she arrived—key, because they were staying in a shit-stained motel. She carried too many things in her bag. She took out her scarf, her purse, her notebook…</p><p>Impatient, agitation soared in Villanelle’s chest. Again, like a child learning the concept of patience, she grumbled, ‘How many things do you carry with you?’</p><p>Eve fished in one of the pockets in her bag and beamed as she pulled a key with a green tag on it. She didn’t respond to the query.</p><p>Once they were inside, Villanelle scanned the room in dismay. She was dismissive and clearly upset with the treatment she will be receiving for the night. Eve thought the room was adequate for the night, but Villanelle didn’t share her sentiment. Villanelle stomped towards her lavish luggage that she spotted placed at the end of the bed at the far side of the room. Instinctively, she began checking if the bag had been searched.</p><p>‘We’ll get your <em>stuff</em> sorted later,’ Eve said, to which Villanelle understood at once, but decided she was better off sulking than replying. ‘And I didn’t rummage your bag,’ Eve reassured as she rummaged her own luggage. Shabbier, and inexpensive.</p><p>Eve took out a maroon towel from her luggage—fluffy, expensive, 20 times more luxurious than the content of her bag. ‘Here.’ She threw the towel towards Villanelle. ‘Doubt you’d want to use the towel here. I brought an extra, just in case. I have a bottle of shampoo and body wash, too, if you want.’</p><p>As Eve emptied a pouch of shampoo, body wash and lotion, Villanelle curiously inched closer to inspect, her eyebrows raised in interest, but there was a hint of sarcasm on her face. ‘Oh, I don’t need them,’ said Villanelle in a mocking tone. ‘You can use mine. They’re better. Like silk on your skin. All you need to do is ask.’ She smiled; the edges of her eyes wrinkled.</p><p>She knew what Villanelle meant. <em>I don’t use cheap stuff</em>. She had to mentally stop herself from retorting. Eve held her toiletries and nightwear in her arm, closer to her chest. ‘If you’re not going in, I’m showering first.’</p><p>Villanelle settled on her side of the room. ‘Okay,’ she blinked, shooting Eve a disinterested look.</p><p>‘Okay.’</p><p>Ten minutes later, the bathroom door creaked open and a waft of lavender swathed the room. Villanelle perked up slightly. Eve had already worn her old, washed-up black camisole that was barely hanging on her body. Most of her skin was exposed to the light from the vanity, illuminating a harsh fluorescent light, which, Villanelle thought didn’t do the woman’s beautiful features any justice. Her hair was up in a turban; the ends of her hair hung loose. ‘You can go in now.’</p><p>Villanelle had been lying still in bed as she listened to the shower hitting Eve’s skin and the floor softly for over 8 minutes. It filled her consciousness as she peered through the hideous ceiling. She had time to think about her future then. <em>Their</em> future. It doesn’t occur often as Villanelle had actively concealed such thoughts even before it could creep into her mind, but nowadays, she’d visit the thought whenever she was left alone. At least a semblance of normalcy that she created in her mind was something she finally learned to appreciate, and it was the only place she wanted to lose herself in just for a little longer than what she was allowed to have.</p><p>Sitting up, she undid a few buttons. Her chest was covered modestly by her hair. Villanelle said nothing when she sat up, but she was watching Eve’s every move.</p><p>No words could describe Eve’s beauty despite how rough she looked. She transcended the ugly light, and all the women Villanelle had lain with night after night after night. Villanelle had the fortune to relish in the thought of seeing Eve in her daydreams, but this was different. The nymph stood in front of the vanity, barely adoring her own reflection. Eve dried her disarrayed locks; jutted out at every angle. She extended her slender arms, squaring her back as she tried to straighten her back before attempting to moisturise her skin.</p><p>The way Eve lathered moisturiser on her face was the most inelegant way one can treat their skin. It made Villanelle wince. Softly, she interjected, ‘Don’t do that. You’ll get wrinkles faster.’ She pushed herself out of bed with a sigh.</p><p>Eve stopped, wary of the offence she had committed to her listless skin. Villanelle ended up next to her. Using her fingers, she demonstrated by creating a slow circular motion on her right cheek before moving on to her forehead. She brought her arms to her side as she inspected Eve’s skin.</p><p>‘Pat your skin. But don’t slap yourself,’ Villanelle instructed.</p><p>Eve followed the instruction, patting her skin softly; her eyes shooting an <em>Am I doing this right?</em> look at the latter. Villanelle gave her a small smile then nodded.</p><p>Eve didn’t really care about her skin. It would wrinkle anyway; it was either sooner or later. If Eve was being honest, she had Googled skincare once in her life, and it was when her life was in chaos. It was one of the things she could do to keep herself in check, apparently. Basic skincare was enough; that was all she was willing to commit. It helped her to separate her chaotic life from the happiness she was struggling to cling on to like a twisted, distant memory, so she continued to take care of her skin in the most dreadful way possible.</p><p>‘Not going in?’ Eve asked nonchalantly as she moved on to her neck with an upward motion.</p><p>Shrugging, she replied, ‘In a while.’</p><p>Eve’s eyes widened, horrified, as soon as she realised Villanelle pulled down the zip of her blouse to undress and simply throwing it onto the bed. She turned to Eve, her face hinted a challenge, but all Eve could do was frown in disapproval. She could easily give Villanelle privacy whenever she needed it.</p><p>Her gaze averted from Villanelle’s bra but fell on the scar on her stomach. Eve gulped nervously, knowing all too well how it was inflicted. The scar stretched a few inches, slightly jagged at the edges, was a few shades darker than Villanelle’s skin tone. It healed better than what Villanelle had expected despite the ordeal she went through, so she paid no mind to it, but that doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt whenever she thought of it. To Villanelle, it was a gift from Eve in return of her infatuation.</p><p>Despite the challenging gaze, Villanelle walked past her before she caught a glimpse of a similar scar on the side of Eve’s back. It was a gun wound. She stopped in her tracks to observe it while Eve was completely oblivious until the former asked, ‘I did that to you?’</p><p>Eve’s eyes shot up to Villanelle’s reflection. She stared at Eve’s back intently, eyes gouging for an answer.</p><p>‘It’s nothing,’ she brushed off, adjusting her old camisole to cover up the scar.</p><p>‘It doesn’t look like nothing.’</p><p>‘It’s nothing important. I don’t want to talk about it,’ Eve remarked in a tired voice.</p><p>She wanted to escape the conversation. Nothing good will come out of it. As Eve turned to leave the vanity, a loud thud made her yelp; Villanelle’s arm blocked her way, and in the process, Villanelle had taken a step closer.</p><p>Annoyance washed over Eve as soon as she recovered. Their eyes locked for a moment, and with one sharp exhale, Eve’s face softened. She looked confused. She saw the determination in Villanelle’s eyes… but what for? She kept her guards up.</p><p>‘Can I see it?’ Contrary to her fiery gaze, there was innocence in her voice; hurt, desperation even. Eve swore she could also hear hints of regret in it.</p><p>Villanelle was someone with a million tricks and surprises up her sleeves, and if Eve could avoid dying in a dreadful motel room, she would do just about anything to avoid it. She had no choice but to comply with the request: she was held a prisoner in the arms of a ruthless assassin.</p><p>‘Sure,’ was all Eve could say. She turned to the mirror, squaring up her shoulders. She mentally readied herself to feel the touch of a blade tracing her back. It would be a dumb way to die, but she didn’t dare to retaliate, or the knife would pierce her, and Eve would be left bleeding to death on the hideous carpeted floor.</p><p>But what she felt was the least of the things she had expected. The cold fingers brushing her side, pulling the old camisole delicately, revealing a small, rounded scar no more than a centimetre. The colour was deeper at the edges too, like Villanelle’s own scar. Curious, Villanelle traced her finger lightly and carefully, fearing that the slightest pressure could hurt Eve. The wound healed, yet the edges suggested a small bump reminding both Villanelle and Eve of that fateful day in Rome.</p><p>‘Did it hurt?’ The weight of the question juxtaposed by the lightness of Villanelle’s voice sent chills to Eve’s spine; not because she was scared, but overwhelmed by the memory of that day.</p><p>Villanelle didn’t want to hurt Eve, or so Eve tried to convince herself. Saliva began to pool in Eve’s mouth. It took her a moment before she could answer. ‘Yes,’ she responded in one breath, watching Villanelle’s reflection through the mirror.</p><p>‘I’m sorry.’</p><p>Eve thought she heard wrong.</p><p>Villanelle half-expected a reply, but then she knew exactly why the latter was tongue-tied. Frightened, and now stunned. It would have been better if Eve had replied. <em>It’s okay</em>. There was no way Eve could understand her actions that day. Villanelle didn’t understand it either. It was merely something she wanted to do at that moment—albeit it made her pull the trigger—and she just went with the flow.</p><p>Villanelle’s mind transported her to her daydreams. She wished she could ravish in the pleasure of kissing Eve softly, giving Eve half of her soul if she had any left, but there was something more crucial, more important than what she wanted for herself. There was a time when everything was easy—no thoughts, just something clicked in her mind and it was enough to get her way—but this was not one of those times. Villanelle was adamant on giving Eve the freedom to never look back.</p><p>They share an unspoken rule: utter nothing that would break the streak they have built for so long. Villanelle went to extra lengths to suppress her feelings, forgetting that part of her that yearned for Eve. She had slept with countless women and men, but she could still feel barriers between herself and the strangers in her mind, her heart, and her body. Villanelle felt every touch and caresses, their kiss on her lips, her breasts, and her thighs, but they did nothing. It was just that: nothing.</p><p>And Eve… Eve was an enigmatic force that even the mighty centurion cannot shake off. That was Eve Polastri.</p><p>Villanelle sensed Eve felt the same way too. As much as they push each other away, they would always come back to a moment, the moment of clarity, where there were just the two of them against the world. It was only then they realise they had more in common than they wanted to admit.</p><p><em>Ah</em>, Villanelle thought. <em>It’s unfair</em>.</p><p>She released the camisole from her grasp, the fabric fell and covered the wound. Villanelle ended up perching her chin on Eve’s shoulders, eyes traced every each of their reflection. Eve, too, stared straight into it. Their frail hearts longed for each other’s love and embrace, but it would hurt Eve even more.</p><p><em>So that’s how we look like together</em>, Villanelle’s train of thought continued.</p><p>‘I gave you that scar on your stomach.’ Eve mentally punched herself for not being able to conceal the tremble in her voice. It rang higher at the end, cutting off Villanelle’s daydream of walking with Eve on Parisian streets; their hands clasped, fingers interlaced.</p><p>Villanelle hummed in her ear. Her eyes closed. ‘You did. Are you sorry?’</p><p>Eve would rather not tell the truth.</p><p>The hum in her ears took Eve beyond the concept of time and place—it transcended the capacity of Eve’s understanding. Such warmth and coolness reminded her of her past, of how <em>ordinary</em> it once was, and how it later spiralled into darkness.</p><p>Eve leaned into it, in her mind, at least. And her heart. Her body stayed rigid. Somehow, there was comfort in Villanelle that Eve liked, but she wouldn’t allow herself to move or to relish it. She didn’t want to lead Villanelle on either, not when they’ve done everything to build this rapport. This job she ended up taking was her promised golden ticket out of this mangled love affair that wasn’t love to begin with, but a corrupt obsession that consumed her days and nights—</p><p>She peeled herself away carefully to face her demon—her very own velvet skin, smooth-talking, blonde demon.</p><p>There was softness in her eyes, Villanelle realised. She had seen it once, and she was fortunate enough to see it once again.</p><p>Eve asked flatly, ‘What.’</p><p>‘Nothing.’</p><p>‘Doesn’t look like nothing to me.’</p><p>Villanelle snickered. ‘Eve.’</p><p>‘Villanelle,’ she returned.</p><p>Villanelle’s eyes dilated, consuming Eve’s image to last her life. Every what-could-have-been. This was all she could afford for now, for herself and for Eve. She let out a small chuckle, then smiled sadly. So, this was her penance. She wouldn’t believe it, but this could be universe’s retribution for the hell Villanelle had inflicted upon others. She wanted to see herself as a vigilante and not as an assassin. With Eve in front of her, just inches away, this was her way to repent: to submit to her feelings then walk away broken-hearted.</p><p>But that couldn’t be it: she wanted to defy everything.</p><p>‘It’s <em>Oksana</em>,’ she replied.</p><p>Eve paused. ‘You didn’t like that name,’ she said warily under her breath.</p><p>‘I’d rather hear it from you. Say it again.’ Her raspy voice soft, like a sleepy child tugging the quilt close to her face in bed.</p><p><em>Fine</em>. In one breath, Eve said, ‘Oksana.’</p><p>The latter smiled. ‘Eve and Oksana. Oksana and Eve.’ She let it hang in the air for a moment. It tasted sweet and warm, like summer spent in the valley by the stream. ‘I’d like to be Oksana for you.’</p><p>Eve’s brows furrowed in disagreement. Villanelle—<em>Oksana</em>—wasn’t supposed to—</p><p>‘Let greed consume me,’ Oksana pleaded. This time, her face twisted in anguish. Her arms entrapping Eve in captivity tightened as if she was fighting a force that only she could see.</p><p>And within a split second, Oksana’s faced changed. There was no indifference, no dejection. Her forehead creased. She was determined. This desperation was new, and this was the first time Eve had seen it. Eve tried to search for something through Oksana’s desperation. It was raw. She knew Oksana had never felt that before and it was crushing her</p><p>‘Villan—’ Eve tried.</p><p>‘It’s <em>Oksana</em>,’ she said through gritted teeth.</p><p>At that moment, Eve’s mind transported her back to Rome. The scar in her back burned, and she barely managed to compose herself in time. She didn’t argue, at least, not belligerently. She was frightened once again.</p><p>‘I-I stand corrected,’ she stuttered. She didn’t want to find out to what lengths Oksana’s desperation would go, but there was no way in hell Eve would want to die in a motel room.</p><p>Realisation hit Oksana. Her face fell, and there it was, once again, pain. ‘You’re afraid of me,’ she whispered.</p><p>Stammering, Eve replied, ‘N-no!’</p><p>‘No. You are. I thought we were… alright.’</p><p>That was an overstatement. ‘What? How?’ She retorted.</p><p>Oksana scoffed. This wasn’t going the way she hoped for all this while. Had she finally made a fool out of herself? Were her feelings not enough, hence unreciprocated? What this the universe’s way to make her pay for what she had done, punishing her with—<em>out of everything in the world!</em>—love?</p><p>‘Are monsters irredeemable?’ She muttered to herself, her mind muddled, shame building up in her. This was all too new.</p><p>Eve didn’t get a chance to respond. She thought Oksana had put it all in the past.</p><p>‘Is there a way for me to—to stop this?’ She stammered, panicked. ‘I’m tired of chasing you away when you’re just… there!’ When Eve couldn’t conjure up a reply, frustration washed over her. ‘Eve, can’t you see? All I want to do is to do good by you. I want to kiss you, t-to hug you, and tell you that I love you and this isn’t a mere obsession that I feel, but I want to <em>learn</em> to love <em>you</em>.</p><p>‘I want to take you somewhere, for once, just the two of us, or sitting down doing nothing! I want to read with you, watch a film, or knit.</p><p>‘I want to please you. Take you away. Eve. Make me learn that this is love and not an obsession because, goddamn it, Eve, I’m sick of having to live like this!’ She paused to catch her breath. Her eyes were a pit of desire, so mesmerising that they were drawing Eve in. ‘Please,’ she said, ‘Let me in.’ The desperation was venomous, it sounded almost threatening.</p><p>Eve was rendered speechless. She wanted to say something, just anything, but produced no words. There was no way to avoid crushing Oksana’s heart, and god forbid, the event it entails.</p><p>They were two broken people who sought each other’s presence, but when it comes to accepting Oksana’s feelings—accepting her own feelings—it was an impossible task for Eve. She needed her escape and spend the remnants of her infinitesimal life free from the madness she plunged into headfirst. Being with Oksana wasn’t the life she desired, but it was one she could visit in her mind to reminisce.</p><p>When she said nothing, once again, Oksana straightened herself carefully for she couldn’t afford startling Eve.</p><p>‘Villanelle.’ Eve’s voice a whisper.</p><p>Oksana returned delicately. ‘Oksana.’</p><p>They were just inches apart. Oksana’s lips parted; she could feel the heat of Eve’s breaths on her lips. It was steadier than ever. The thumps against her ribcage drove her mad with excitement and desire. This was too much, but it was what she longed for, after all. ‘May I?’ Her voice was soft, barely a whisper.</p><p>Eve wanted it. Hell, Eve wanted to return the touch, the kiss, her feelings for Oksana. They were at the right time, but not in the right place. She shut her eyes, feeling Oksana’s cool skin reaching out for her arms.</p>
<hr/><p>She imagined Niko whom she had not seen in forever. She imagined her responsibilities at MI5. She imagined making risotto and ratatouille in her kitchen, drinking red wine, and pouring it into the wine glass again and again and again until her eyes slightly blur, the colours intensifying and the music crescendo in the background. It was loud, but it was the tipsiness taking over her body.</p><p>She imagined laughing with her neighbours who all brought their pots to the small gathering, pouring more wine. Red, then white, then red again. Jane from the corner of the lane suggested they pop the bottle of champagne she had brought.</p><p>Laughter and pleasure consumed her throughout the evening, and Eve’s only fanciest black dress ornated with red rose lifted slightly as she spun to the music. The hem of her dress folded as she abruptly stopped whirling, and her eyes set at a corner of the dim reading room.</p><p>Eve’s face fell, her lips parted in wonder. Bewildered.</p><p>She thought it was Niko. <em>No</em>. That wasn’t Niko.</p><p>The silhouette of a suited person, a lady, Eve presumed, with her blonde hair tied in a loose bun on the crown of her head. Her arms crossed, leaning against the built-in bookshelf., calmly observing the party from the lone, dimmed yellow light irradiating the dark room.</p><p>Music slowed then echoed in the background, faded into the laughter of her visitors. There was a sudden ring in her eyes, and everything around her seemed to slow down. Eve’s legs took a step forward. Her mind tried to stop her from inching closer to the vague yet familiar figure in the shadows, and as she stepped closer, everything took shape.</p><p>A soft smile formed on Oksana’s lips, decadent. ‘Having fun?’</p><p>Eve’s voice caught in her throat. She meant to ask, <em>How are you here? How did you get in?</em> All she could manage was the truth. ‘Yes.’</p><p>‘Great book collection you have here.’ Oksana was nonchalant; it was as if she belonged there. When Eve stayed silent, she said, ‘Nice dress.’ There was a pause. ‘I could be in there with you, you know?’</p><p>‘I know.’</p><p>The absent of the chatter and music crushed Eve’s mind. ‘How—’</p><p>Oksana shrugged, cutting Eve off mid-sentence. ‘Perhaps you thought of me. I hate being on the side-line. I’d like to join the fun.’</p><p>Eve was close enough that she could smell the fine perfume Oksana doused herself with, and with every step she took, even the creases that developed at the edge of Oksana’s eyes were as clear as day.</p><p>‘You can’t,’ said Eve in such haste.</p><p>She shrugged again. ‘I know. But imagine it.’ Oksana pointed to the crowd behind Eve.</p><p>Curiosity tightened in her chest and the silence was deafening. She spun quickly that she needed to balance herself.</p><p>Eve saw herself—a cheery version of her—laughing and talking with her guests. There, Oksana lifted her glass behind the counter, and in her other hand was a casserole. She took it to the table, placing it carefully on the dining table where Eve had just abandoned her guests. Oksana settled next to Eve, sitting at the head of the table, tugging the hem of her coat. There was a glimmer in Eve’s eyes as their eyes met. It filled with adoration for her betrothed. Oksana’s warm smile crinkled the edge of her eyes.</p><p>Eve couldn’t hear anything, but the sight was idyllically romantic.</p><p>‘That could be us.’ Eve, who was standing by the side-line, turned her attention to the source of the voice. ‘I told you it would be perfect.’</p><p>Eve stared. She could see Oksana looking despondent; she wanted to be a part of a life she never had.</p><p>This world was Eve’s make-believe, one of her many temporary escapes from reality. There had been other instances too. Eve lounged on the sofa and Oksana would appear with freshly popped popcorn, or when she took a nap, Oksana planted kisses to wake her up. Whenever Eve expected to see Niko, it was always Oksana who appeared.</p><p>‘This is all in my mind. I created this place,’ she said calmly.</p><p>She saw Oksana’s face darkened. Instead of acting out or pulling out a weapon, she nodded understandingly. Eve still gulped nervously, bracing herself for what was to come.</p><p>‘It’s a great utopia. I’m glad to be a part of it.’ Her voice small in the darkness. ‘Don’t you want it? In real life?’ Oksana enquired.</p><p>The question replayed in Eve’s mind. She’d rather burrowed it in her mind and taking it out and watch it like a film. This part of her mind was for her eyes only. Eve wanted Oksana as much as Oksana wanted here, but there was more to life than this. She wanted to close the MI6 chapter as quickly as possible, ripping the plaster off swiftly and howl the pain into obscurity.</p><p>When Eve opened her eyes, she met Oksana’s own hazel irises. They were in the shabby room again, and nothing had changed, even a bit.</p>
<hr/><p>Eve realised that Oksana was waiting for an answer despite her impatience permeating the air around them. Either of them could easily close the space between, and though Eve wanted to kiss her, she couldn’t bring herself to do it.</p><p>Oksana couldn’t wait any longer. She leaned in.</p><p>‘Please, don’t,’ Eve managed, tilting her head back slightly. Tiredness seeped through her words. Oksana stopped at once. ‘We can’t.’</p><p>Her hands cupped Oksana’s face, stroking her cheeks gently, pulling her further from her. Eve could see confusion through Oksana’s eyes as she searched for answers desperately, devising plans to get her way. She was hopeless.</p><p>‘We will.’</p><p>Oksana’s skin felt hot under Eve’s palms. The warmth of those hazel eyes was something she wanted to peer into and lose herself in it. She could take her words back and pull the face closer, allowing her lips to meet Oksana’s red-stained lips, and Oksana wouldn’t mind it, but at what cost?</p><p>‘It wouldn’t be fair,’ Eve said in the end. ‘That wouldn’t be fair,’ she repeated, this time to herself.</p><p>‘Nothing’s fair.’</p><p>‘And we’ll make it fair. For you and me.’</p><p>Eve allowed her to smile. It was more melancholic than anything.</p><p>Oksana let out a sharp breath. Crushed. Thwarted. She wished she hadn’t heard it. She let her hair fell to cover her shame. Oksana couldn’t look at Eve, but she still held onto the vanity, confining Eve.</p><p>Eve reached out to brush the hairs that covered Oksana’s face and tugged the blonde locks behind the ears. She tip-toed slightly and pressed her lips on Oksana’s bare forehead. She held it on for a moment, relishing in every what-could-have-been that played in her mind, wishing that she didn’t have to pull away. She could hear Oksana taking a sharp breath; she, too, wanted to be held that way for a little longer.</p><p>And when she did pull away, Eve spoke, ‘I don’t think I deserve it. I hope that you’ll find someone who treats you better than I do.’</p><p>Oksana said nothing. It was impossible to say anything for all she had left were the presence of the one she loved, and the lingering pressure on her forehead. It was such a shame. She finally took a step backwards, releasing Eve from the trap she created before picking up her toiletries wordlessly.</p><p>Eve stayed put to watch her. She wanted to read her. She wanted to predict what Oksana’s next move would be, but Oksana was good at concealing her feelings and expression. The air betrayed whatever façade she tried to maintain; it was filled with despair.</p><p>‘Are you okay?’ Eve finally asked.</p><p>Oksana turned, but it took her a while to reply. Her eyes avoided Eve, in fear that she couldn’t honour Eve’s wishes. She realised that Eve didn’t ask for anything more than her freedom, and at that moment, she wanted to honour Eve’s wishes more than ever.</p><p>‘I’m fine.’ There was an edge in her impassive voice. ‘I’m going in.’</p><p>‘V—<em>Oksana!</em>’ She stuttered, stopping the latter in her tracks. Eve spoke without thinking, ‘Are you going to kill me?’</p><p>Oksana scoffed. With a sigh, she replied, ‘I’m not going to make the same mistake twice.’ She was still avoiding Eve’s gaze; she looked past her.</p><p>Though she believed in Oksana’s words, Eve couldn’t let her guards down, but she appreciated the sentiment. ‘Thank you.’</p><p>‘You’re welcome,’ was all she said before she disappeared from Eve’s sight.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you for reading. :) There are mistakes in the text, but I'll try my best to come back and edit them.</p><p>Hit me up on <a href="https://justlikedomino.tumblr.com">tumblr</a> or <a href="https://twitter.com/KIMINOGRAVITY">twitter</a>. I need friends.</p><p>I do not consent reposts of my fics on other apps and sites. You can read my works <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/hungryforramen/works">here</a> or on my <a href="https://ghoulishlytokyo.tumblr.com">writing tumblr</a>.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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